


Are You Listening?

by riyku



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riyku/pseuds/riyku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is very distracting. Jensen doesn't mind it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Listening?

Jensen punched his pillow, kicked at the covers and slid into the small dip in the center of the mattress. With a sigh that was long-suffering and admittedly a touch on the melodramatic side, he flipped to another page in the essay he had to get through before class in the morning. He blinked, eyes burning from trying to read in the dim light from Jared’s side of the bed. The print blurred and marched across the page like tiny ants.

Indulgently closing his eyes for few minutes, Jensen listened to the almost-bedtime noises that came from the adjoining bathroom: the groan from the old pipes as Jared finished his shower and shut the water off, the rattle of the towel on the bar, the scuffing sound of Jared’s toothbrush across his teeth, and the soft clunk as the medicine cabinet opened then closed. Jensen had been witness to this routine for more than a year now, and the predictable order of sounds did a trick on him that would have made Pavlov proud. His shoulders relaxed and his mind went blissfully blank, and by the time Jared emerged through a blast of soap-scented steam, Jensen’s chin rested on his chest.

“You done already?” Jared asked, although he sounded more like the teacher from _Charlie Brown_ , his words slurred and malformed, mouth wide open and fingers getting in the way of his tongue as he flossed. He filled up the doorway, bare-chested, his wet hair brushed away from his face and still dripping a little on his shoulders. His boxers rode low on his hips, ridiculous things that depicted rainbow frosted cupcakes against a bright green background. They’d been a gag gift from Jensen, but damn if the guy couldn’t pull them off.

With a stifled yawn, Jensen said, “Nowhere near it.” He straightened against the headboard and knuckled at his eyes, wondering what kinda bribe it would take to get Jared to put on a pot of coffee then serve it to him in bed.

Humming, Jared retreated toward the sink, giving Jensen an unobstructed view of his back and the gentle curve of his ass right above the waistband of his boxers. Water still clung to the dip in the small of Jared’s back, and Jensen fingers twitched. He wanted to put his hands there. Jared finished at the sink and stretched his arms high about his head, twisting this way and that, muscles bunching and shifting beneath his skin. It was a show put on for Jensen’s benefit and Jensen knew it, couldn’t help but allow Jared the victory by looking anyway. He was only human, after all.

“You shoulda listened to me,” Jared reminded him, crossing the room and sliding into bed beside Jensen. “Poetry is fucking _hard_.”

Jensen grunted a response. “Thought it’d be a little light reading,” he mumbled. “Y’know. poems being generally short and whatnot.”

He’d picked up the low-level intro class almost as a throw away, an extra elective to stack up his credit hours to full-time status so that he could keep his scholarship. What he didn’t bargain on were all the essays and biographies that came along with reading a poem that was only about twenty lines long. One month into the class, and already he knew more than he ever wanted to know about Goethe’s curious obsession with his sister, as well as every lurid detail of Sylvia Plath’s manic depression.

“What’s this?” Jared asked, plucking the papers out of Jensen’s hands and skimming the page.

“As far as I can tell,” Jensen replied, “it’s some guy’s critique on some other guy’s interpretation of a poem written by a third guy.” Jensen shoved his hand through his hair and leaned into Jared, crossing their ankles together. “It’s all very circular.”

“Sounds more like a triangle to me,” Jared said with a small frown.

“If you want to be literal about it, then sure.”

“Where were you?” Jared asked, tipping the article in Jensen’s direction. Jensen pointed out the second paragraph from the bottom and Jared cleared his throat and started to read, slow and clear. He shifted a little and made room for Jensen when he slid in closer, wrapping an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and skimming his fingertips absently along Jensen’s upper arm.

Jensen let himself sink into the sound of Jared’s voice, a little more than a whisper, soft and reading in a steady monotone. He spreads his fingers on Jared’s stomach, lulled by the low rumble of his speech and the even rise and fall of his chest. Just as he was most of the way into a nice little nap, Jared shrugged, jostling Jensen onto his back.

“Hey.” Jared gave him a small jab to the ribs with an elbow. “Shouldn’t you be taking notes, maybe?”

“I was learning through osmosis. Or something.” Jensen flopped over onto his side, faced away from Jared and fitted his back along Jared’s side.

“Or something. You were falling asleep,” Jared accused him.

“I was listening. Very hard. With my eyes closed to block out distractions. You’re very distracting.”

“Your face is distracting,” Jared teased.

“Your ass is distracting,” Jensen countered.

“It’s been said.” Jared picked up where he left off, referencing a footnote in some obscure text and occasionally prodding at Jensen’s shoulder when he didn’t move for a while. Jensen had built up a strong immunity to Jared’s tousling over the years. Jared was restless, handsy even in his sleep, and Jensen figured at this point the bed could fall through the floor and he’d sleep straight though it.

“Listen to me. Are you listening?” Jared asked, rousing Jensen out of an uneven doze. He’d moved at some point and pressed in close, a long, stretched-out line of heat all along Jensen’s back. Jared crooked his knees to match the angle of their legs and slid a chilly foot between Jensen’s. “What was the last thing I said?”

“Something about imagery?” Jensen said.

Jared shook his head, his nose brushing the back of Jensen’s neck. “Nope. Try again.”

“Metaphor.”

“Now you’re just guessing. One more shot.”

Jared caught some skin at Jensen’s nape between his teeth with a pinching little nip, then opened his mouth on the small sting, tongue sneaking out to taste. Jensen tipped his head and arched into the feel of Jared’s lips, so soft and warm. He shivered when Jared slid a slow hand upward along his side then down across his chest. His thumb swiped against the sensitive flesh of Jensen’s nipple and then stayed there, drawing small circles and worrying the spot with a thumbnail until the skin pebbled and grew hard.

“And if I get it wrong?” Jensen asked. His mental glossary of poetic devices was growing more and more hazy by the second, and he pressed his hips backward to rub against Jared’s crotch. Two could play at this game.

“I’ll figure something out,” Jared said, and bit down a little harder this time, sucking on Jensen’s skin and leaving it damp and tender.

“Meter and rhyme,” Jensen murmured.

“Hey, that was two,” Jared pointed out.

“Was one of them right, at least?”

“Lucky son of a bitch,” Jared replied, and shifted swiftly to yank Jensen onto his back. He shoved Jensen’s legs apart with his knees and ringed Jensen’s wrists with a strong grip, stretching them above his head and letting Jensen know to keep them there with a firm press of them into the pillow. Jared dove down and kissed him fast, gave Jensen the tiniest taste of his tongue and then backed off, leaving Jensen open-mouthed and gasping. Through the fringe of his bangs, Jared’s eyes were dark and glinting, his mouth wet and set into a wicked grin.

Jensen squirmed beneath him, dug his heels into the mattress in an attempt to gain some leverage and tried to jab his hips up. Jared answered the move with a small chuckle, blanketed Jensen’s chest with his own, rocked down hard and lined them up just right. It pushed a low groan out of Jensen and sent his head spinning; he could feel the ridge of Jared’s cock, stiff and hot through his boxers. Jensen wasn’t fully hard yet but he was getting there fast, warmth spiraling and spreading way down low.

“Goddamn, babe,” Jared said as he rolled his hips again, and Jensen opened his mouth to protest, but his complaint was swallowed when Jared kissed him, slicked his tongue inside and curled it along Jensen’s, minty, still tasting of toothpaste. The kiss was languid and lingering in a way that left Jensen a little crazy, wanting and impatient, and in that moment, Jensen figured he could call him whatever he wanted to, so long as he didn’t stop.

Jared kissed a deliberate path down Jensen’s body. Burying a hand in Jensen’s hair and tipping his head sideways, Jared nuzzled beneath his jaw and tongued into the hollow of his throat, humming a sweet, satisfied sound that shot straight to Jensen’s cock. His tongue left a slick trail down Jensen’s chest as he found his nipple and let Jensen feel his teeth, then worked on it with long, sloppy sucks. He pressed two fingers into Jensen’s mouth and moved them in and out, and Jensen slid his tongue between them, grazed the pads of Jared’s fingers with his teeth then hollowed his cheeks around them. Some cloudy part of him wished it was Jared’s cock—he wanted the heat and the weight of it in his mouth, the taste of it, bitter and salty but somehow still a little sweet.

Jared was calling the shots here, though. He kept Jensen pinned to the mattress, Jensen’s thighs splayed around Jared’s body as he kissed and licked and bit his way down. He sucked at a spot on the sensitive skin of Jensen’s stomach, right below his belly button, and pulled off with a wet-sounding pop. A rose-colored mark was left behind, sure to grow into a darker bruise while Jensen slept. It was right where his belt would hit, and Jensen was already looking forward to it, the tiny reminder of Jared that would come all day tomorrow and maybe the day after, the tiniest stab of pain when he folded himself in a chair or a desk.

“Fuck,” Jared whispered, “You smell good.” He buried his face in Jensen’s crotch, rubbing his open mouth along the obvious line of his cock and soaking his boxers with spit. Jensen almost shot off the bed when Jared reached up the loose leg of his shorts and wrapped a hand around him. Seeing Jared jack him beneath the thin fabric was almost more obscene than seeing it in vivid technicolor, the shape of his knuckles clearly visible as tugged from root to tip. Jensen threw an arm over his eyes when Jared ran his fingers over the head, gathering the slickness there and spreading it down.

Jensen tried to draw his legs together and sink into the mattress, but Jared was there. Jared was everywhere. His orgasm was building, teased out of him little by little with Jared’s lips and his tongue and all the tricks he played with his hands.

“Jared,” Jensen panted. “Slow down. I’m gonna…”

Withdrawing his hand, Jared said, “Already? Can’t have that.” His grin was cocky and really kinda endearing as he sat back on his haunches. He yanked on Jensen’s boxers, and even that small amount of friction, just silky cotton sliding against his cock, sent Jensen spiraling closer to the endgame.

Jared shuffled out of his own boxers, legs tangling up with Jensen’s for a moment, and then paused to kneel between Jensen’s spread legs, staring down at him, getting his fill as he gave Jensen a chance to gather himself, one hand wandering along Jensen’s upper thigh. A sheen of sweat covered Jared’s broad chest, pooled a bit in the dip of his collarbone. A flush colored his cheeks and his neck, even the tips of his ears. Jensen let his eyes drop to Jared’s cock, thick, dark and slick looking, precome beaded at the tip. He was gorgeous, every square inch of him. Miles past gorgeous, truth be told, and Jensen wondered, not for the first time, how all of this could be real. Some small part of him kept waiting to wake up.

The immediate need calmed to a slow simmer, and Jensen reached for the bedside table, fumbling blindly around for the lube. He tossed it in Jared’s direction.

“C’mon,” Jared said, tugging at Jensen’s hips. “On your knees.” The commanding tone in Jared’s voice was a little surprising and incredibly sexy, and Jensen complied without thought, rested his head on his forearms and set his knees apart. He canted his hips, let his spine dip down and then held his breath when he felt Jared’s finger press against his rim.

“If,” Jared started then cut off. He grabbed handfuls of Jensen’s ass and squeezed. “You can tell me to stop. I just wanna.”

The first tentative touch of Jared’s tongue to his hole made Jensen scramble toward the headboard, every nerve in his body zinged to life and goosebumps broke out all over. Jared licked at him again, more sure this time. They’d always sorta skirted the idea. Jared had made his interest known and Jensen had basically ignored it, not too keen on being so wide open and exposed. But this was _Jared_. Jensen trusted him.

Jensen moaned, rasped out, _“Fuck,”_ his voice all gritty. He clawed at the sheets and bit the side of his hand to stem the noises that tried to break through from the back of his throat as Jared spit onto his rim then licked it up with warm, slippery swipes of his tongue. And sure, it still felt dirty, but it was also good. So goddamn hot. Jensen rocked into the sensation, his cock a heavy weight that bobbed with his movements and slapped against his stomach. On impulse, he stretched behind himself and pushed a fingertip past the tight ring of muscle. It was Jared’s turn to moan then, a vibration that skittered off Jensen’s flesh as he continued to nip and suck, tongue and lips fighting with Jensen’s finger in a maddening way.

A new wave of heat tore through him, red spots blooming on the back of his eyelids. “Jesus. Fuck, Jared,” Jensen said from behind gritted teeth. “If you’re gonna…” He ventured a glance backward and saw Jared tip up, sway some as he kneeled, swiping the back of his hand across his darkened, swollen mouth.

Jensen was already loose and wet from Jared’s tongue when Jared slicked up two fingers and slid them in nice and deep, twisting as he backed off. He added a third right away and worked them in and out as his other hand skidded up the center of Jensen’s spine to find his shoulder and knead at the muscle there.

“I’m good. I’m fucking good,” Jensen urged him, then flipped on his back again and draped his legs over Jared’s thighs. “C’mere,” he said holding his arms out. His cock throbbed, he needed to get off right the fuck now, his head spun and his limbs felt like he’d just run a marathon, and all he really wanted to do was kiss Jared.

He took Jared’s face in his hands and snagged their mouths together, thumb pressed into Jared’s jaw to urge him wider, then skimmed his tongue against the roof of Jared’s mouth, along all the bumps and ridges of his teeth.

Jared’s dick was a nudging pressure behind Jensen’s balls, damp and sticky, and Jensen broke the kiss to find the lube in the tangled mess of sheets. Jared drew in a hissing breath and pushed into it as Jensen jacked him, his hand sloppy with slick.

It was just this side of painful when Jared lined them up and pressed inside. Jared kept his eyes fixed on Jensen’s face, not once looking away and intent on gauging his reaction, stilling at the slightest hint of a wince. Jensen had never minded a little pain, though. He could really get into this, the burn and the stretch of it, the feeling of Jared surrounding him inside and out, the fullness of Jared’s cock so thick and hot and perfect.

Jared uttered a breathy moan when he was buried inside of Jensen, hooked his fingers beneath Jensen’s knees, hitched them up to wrap them around the small of his back, and slid in even further, impossibly deep. Jensen could feel every inch of him, the throbbing heat of his cock and the delicious pressure of their chests resting flush together, Jared’s fingers gripping his shoulders tightly.

They stayed that way for a moment, just breathing. Then Jared shivered and drew back, Jensen’s rim catching at the head of his cock before he slammed back in. The force of it pushed Jensen toward the top of the bed and he braced one arm against the headboard, slinging the other around Jared’s neck. Jared got one hand on him, reaching between their bodies, barely a brush of his palm up the underside of Jensen’s cock and Jensen’s orgasm washed over him. Jensen tossed his head backward, mouth dropped open and his cock pulsing. His stomach muscles contracted and he clenched down tightly as Jared fucked into him, hips colliding with Jensen’s ass in sharp slaps.

He tipped his hips into Jared’s, locked his legs tightly around Jared’s waist, and fought to match his rhythm of short drives punctuated with slow dragging thrusts. He begged and pleaded in a voice that sounded far away to his own ears. His head felt fuzzy, he was still reeling from the force of his orgasm. He had it on pretty good authority that he’d never come so hard in his entire fucking life.

Three more thrusts and Jared faltered, buried his face in the crook of Jensen’s neck and groaned as his whole body went tense, the muscles in his back going rock hard beneath Jensen’s hands. Jensen moved sluggishly with an easy roll of his hips, riding out the last shudders of Jared’s orgasm and kissing every spot he could reach: Jared’s forehead, his temple, the top of his head.

Jared mumbled something against his throat, Jensen couldn’t be sure but it sounded like _fucking poetry_ , then propped his chin on Jensen’s chest. He traced Jensen’s jaw line with a finger that still shook slightly, and flashed him an easy, dimpled smile.

“Do I have your attention now?”

 

 

fin.

Thanks for reading.  



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